


The One Where Shepard Was A Gang Mascot

by ShootingStar7123



Series: Origins [3]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Bad Driving, F/M, Gangs, Humor, Insanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShootingStar7123/pseuds/ShootingStar7123
Summary: Part of the "Origins" series, which is about putting a twist on Shepard's canon origins.Earthborn Shepard’s gang found fame and fortune, and Shepard rode that wave as long as it lasted.





	The One Where Shepard Was A Gang Mascot

**Author's Note:**

> This is in large part inspired by the Saints Row series.

“Hell yes!” Shepard pumped her fist as she caught sight of the mako in the cargo bay. She ran her fingers over it lovingly. “Goddamn, I can’t wait to drive this baby.”

 

Anderson cleared his throat and she snapped to attention.

 

“Sorry, sir. I’ll be more professional once the crew arrives, I swear.”

 

Anderson chose to ignore that statement. “You’ve driven a mako before?” he asked.

 

“No,” she said with a shrug. “But I’ve driven a lot of ground vehicles. Motorcycles, sports cars, tanks…”

 

He blinked. “You drove a tank?”

 

She grinned. “Twenty-first century. Ran it on jet fuel.”

 

He shook his head. “Some days I wonder how you ever ended up in the Alliance.”

 

She grinned, undaunted. “I wonder that myself all the time.”

 

…

 

…

 

As Shepard walked away from Finch, Tali spoke up. “You were in an anti-alien gang?” she asked, with just a trace of hurt in her voice.

 

“It wasn’t,” Shepard said, trying to hold in a wince at Tali’s reaction. “Not when I was a part of it. We were about taking back our neighborhood. Living dangerously… Living rich.” She wiggled her brows at the quarian, trying to improve the mood. “Finch’s anti-alien bull never would have flown in the old days. But I guess all that was left when the gang fell apart was lowlifes like him. I wouldn’t know. I was off-world by then.”

 

Shepard felt a little morose, thinking of her Reds, her _family_ , going so wrong.

 

Tali patted Shepard on the arm—when had this turned into Tali comforting her?—and made a little clicking sound in her throat. “I believe you, Shepard. I’m sorry they tried to take advantage of your kindness.”

 

Shepard quirked a brow at that. She wasn’t sure she _had_ kindness to take advantage of. But it was nice of Tali to think so.

 

…

 

…

 

“Damn, I’m starved,” Shepard muttered as they clambered back into the mako to wait for a pick up.

 

Liara gave Shepard a shocked look. “How can you even think about eating after what we just saw in that base?” she demanded. “I’m not sure I’ll ever eat again.”

 

Garrus rolled his eyes behind her back at the asari’s dramatics, but she did have a point. He was feeling a little nauseated himself. Between the thresher maw and thorian creeper stench, he was definitely going to have to shower before even thinking about a meal.

 

Shepard signaled the Normandy before answering. “I’m a bit of a freak of nature that way,” she said, unconcerned. “That’s why the Alliance loves me!” She grinned.

 

“The Alliance loves you because you can still get hungry after having zombies explode all over you?” Liara asked, incredulous.

 

Shepard snorted. “They love me because I bounce back easy from even the most disturbing missions. The psychologist after Torfan said something about me lacking a healthy baseline for normal human interactions…” She trailed off for a moment, then shook her head quickly. “I think maybe I’m just part krogan.”

 

Garrus raised a browplate but wisely chose not to comment.

 

“Ooh!” Shepard said, hearing the Normandy arrive. “Here’s our ride.” And when they finally disembarked the mako, Shepard went straight for the mess.

 

…

 

…

 

Jacob crossed his arms, looking at Shepard leaning on the table across from him. She’d asked him what he wanted to know about her, in the interest of bonding her team. He wasn’t sure about that, but… “I do have one question for you. A few rumors made their way around the base while you were under.”

 

Shepard shrugged. “Hit me.”

 

Jacob typed something on his omni-tool and pulled up an image. “What are you doing in this old energy drink ad? Since when did running in a gang involve modeling?”

 

Shepard laughed at the image of her teenage self leaning up against a giant soda can. “The Reds weren’t like other gangs. At least not like any other gangs I know. It started out the same. Running drugs, a couple clubs.” She shrugged. “But after we took down this oppressive rival gang, we got popular. And we turned that popularity into an empire.”

 

Shepard smiled, her eyes gaining a faraway look. “We had it good for a while. Penthouses, parties. Got my bit of violence in. I was basically the mascot. You know, Reds… redhead.” She motioned to her hair. “I got out when things got bad.”

 

“Bad?” Jacob asked.

 

Shepard rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “Well, most of the Reds’ original leaders are in prison for tax fraud.”

 

…

 

…

 

As they walked through Afterlife, Shepard kept yawning.

 

“Is something wrong, Shepard?” Miranda asked, looking concerned. “Have you not been sleeping?”

 

_Worried about your investment?_ Tali thought viciously, but kept her mouth shut. She was trying not to antagonize the Cerberus crew more than absolutely necessary.

 

“I’m fine,” Shepard said, waving her off. “Clubs make me sleepy.”

 

Miranda’s eyes blinked rapidly. Tali tilted her head in confusion.

 

The music was pulsing so loud Tali could feel her suit vibrating. There were people dancing everywhere, laughing and talking, the smell of perfume and body odor seeping through her filters. How could anyone sleep in a place like this?

 

Shepard gave a careless little shrug. “I used to nap in clubs when I was a kid. Got bored when Jules took me along to do business.”

 

Tali loved her friend, but, keelah, it was no wonder she was so strange. She’d had the oddest childhood!

 

…

 

…

 

Shepard picked up an old corded phone and pressed her hand to the bulletproof glass. “Hi Jules,” she said.

 

The older man sitting across from her shook his head, his eyes looking suspiciously shiny. “God damn,” he said. “They told me you were dead. I said no way. Not my Little Red.”

 

“Got spaced,” she said. “I was in a coma for a couple of years healing up. But that’s not why I’m here.”

 

“Lay it on me, girl,” he said, like he used to for all her childhood worries. No one would have guessed that the notorious gang leader had such a soft side, but Shepard would never tell. It was for her alone. She didn’t remember any other family than him.

 

“I’m doing something dangerous,” she said bluntly. “Trying to save the colonies that have been disappearing. Gonna have to go through the Omega 4 relay.” She sighed. “My crew started asking to take care of unfinished business. That sort of… brought things home.”

 

Jules leaned forward, staring Shepard right in the eye. “You listen here, Little Red. So no one survived the other side? Well, you gonna be the first. You’re not dyin’ on me again, girl. Who’s gonna come visit me if you do?”

 

She laughed, a couple tears spilling from her eyes. “Whatever you say, boss,” she said, remembering all the times she’d sassed him as a teen with the same phrase.

 

“You live,” he said with conviction. “And you come visit me after, okay? But for now we got five more minutes. Tell me what else you been up to. Got a boyfriend yet?”

 

She blushed.

 

…

 

…

 

Shepard was still in shock after Admiral Hackett left.

 

“Are you alright?” Doctor Chakwas asked, looking at Shepard in concern.

 

Shepard shrugged. “Crime was all I knew growing up, but I never saw the inside of a prison.” She gave Chakwas a brief smile, then shook her head. “And now I’m going to be locked up for something an admiral asked me to do.”

 

Chakwas nodded. “It’s horse shit, Commander,” she said mildly.

 

Shepard laughed. “You got that right, doc.” She slid off the med bay cot and sighed. “Am I free to go? I’ve gotta talk to Joker about some stops we need to make before Vancouver.”

 

“Go on,” Chakwas said, nodding towards the door. “But Commander…”

 

Shepard paused, looking at her.

 

“Just know we’re all behind you. No matter what happens.”

 

She smiled her thanks and slipped out of the room.

 

…

 

…

 

Sometimes the travel times across the galaxy got boring, even with a war on, and that was when Shepard ended up at the bar in the observation lounge. More often than not she was joined by one or more of her crew when not on duty. It was a nice way to unwind and get to know her team.

 

“Stupidest thing you ever did,” Vega prompted, a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers.

 

“Robbed a bank,” she said instantly.

 

“Okay…” he said, thinking. “Craziest thing you ever did.”

 

“Robbed a bank wearing a mask of my own face.”

 

He snorted. “Favorite mission?”

 

“Skydiving into a penthouse pool.”

 

Vega spluttered into his beer. “Damn, Lola! N7s get all the good missions!”

 

Shepard shook her head, smirking. “Nah, that was with the Reds.”

 

He shook his head. “Dios, only you could make being in a gang sound fun.”

 

…

 

…

 

Shepard spread her arms wide, spinning around in the open space of her new Silversun Strip apartment. “Isn’t it kickass? It reminds me of the place I used to have back on Earth.”

 

Jack shot her a look. “Shit, Shepard. I thought you grew up poor.”

 

“I grew up in a _gang_ ,” Shepard said. “There’s a difference.”

 

…

 

…

 

She argued and argued with the Alliance doctor. “I run faster than before,” she claimed. But she couldn’t quite argue away a medical discharge.

 

So she turned her attention to the council. Well, the Alliance may have discharged her, but the council wasn’t in the business of giving up their agents, even ones with two prosthetic legs. She followed that up by demanding they allow her to induct her boyfriend into the spectres. As it turned out, they weren’t in the business of denying spectre status to decorated war heroes either.

 

She leveraged her fame to get the Normandy back, hiring EDI and Joker immediately as crew. Others soon followed, those who didn’t want to go back to the Alliance. She paid for it all by licensing out her name and image to anyone who would pay, and dragging Garrus right along with her. He’d been resistant at first, but when she said she was saving up for their honeymoon fund, well… he didn’t resist long after that.

 

In fact, he’d immediately directed Joker to fly the Normandy to a place Shepard immediately nicknamed “Space Vegas” for a wedding. When Shepard saw that one of the officiant options was a Commander Shepard impersonator (hey, it’s not like she could remember who she licensed out to), she was in heaven. Garrus, as a general rule, wasn’t in the habit of turning down her requests.

 

Most of the Normandy crew would agree it was the tackiest wedding they’d ever attended, but Shepard and Garrus didn’t care. They had fun, and in the end they were married with a minimum of fuss, which was all they really wanted.

 

But duty called, and they were sent on a mission to Earth before they could take the honeymoon Shepard had been saving for.

 

“You do some detective work, see what you can figure out about our mark,” she said after they’d landed on Earth. “I’m going for supplies.”

 

“Be careful,” he called, tossing her a ration bar.

 

She winked. “I’m always careful.”

 

A few hours later, she pinged his omni-tool, asking him to come outside. After heading down the loading ramp, he stopped in his tracks.

 

Shepard grinned from the driver’s seat of a shiny red land vehicle. Warning bells were ringing in his head when he saw that it didn’t even have a roof.

 

“Get in, Garrus!” she called, waving. “You’re going to love this.”

 

Years later, she still didn’t believe him when said he hadn’t enjoyed the mako rides. He didn’t see much point in arguing now. But spirits! She’d always had a lead foot. He could only imagine how bad her driving was now that her foot was _actually_ made of metal.

 

He sighed, but was already moving towards the passenger’s seat. “I hope you didn’t spend our honeymoon fund on this thing.”

 

“Baby, this ‘thing’ is a perfectly preserved twentieth century Mustang convertible. It deserves your respect!” She smirked. “And I only spent half the honeymoon fund on it, Garrus. You should stop worrying so much!”

 

With that, she pushed the pedal to the floor, shooting them off at a breakneck pace. The girly high pitched scream that anyone might have heard _definitely_ wasn’t Garrus.

 

…


End file.
